An Attempt at Guilt-Tripping

“I’ll go on ahead,” I tell Elaine, and she nods as she waits by the III-3 classroom.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah – my ride might be there already. Mom might get mad if I come home late,” I add hastily with a grimace, and she nods again before breaking out into a grin as the class was dismissed. Picking up my water jug and folders, I quickly walk away and head down the stairs, not wanting to listen to a conversation and do whatever. In truth, I just wanted to go home, complete the Geometry homework, and rest.

Therese, Beatrice, Janica and Cianna had already gone a couple of minutes ago – Gabrielle was being fetched elsewhere, and Megan was (yet again) absent. Sharmaine had left with Mia, Ryel had training (I think)…and I had left Elaine and Ride upstairs.

For a moment, I consider returning back upstairs and going with them.

But the Juniors’ level is two more floors up and I didn’t really want to go back up just to be a third wheel watcher silent listener. So I continued my way downstairs, turning left and passing by the still-in-construction Kinder area, alone with my thoughts for the remainder of the afternoon.

Unlike Freshman year, where I hated walking alone, I actually liked the silence. It was a large shift from the morning and afternoon, where the others and I would be really, really noisy – even by the Teachers’ Room, where we usually hung out. Jokes would be thrown and conversations would be held, sometimes different topics to be discussed. Briefly thinking about the day’s talks, I remembered Gabrielle’s story (about the reporter guy), Beatrice’s fangirling, and…other things.

“You seem distracted.”

Just when I was about to completely forget about him

I keep a stoic face. “Oh? Do I look that way to you?”

“Yeah – you do.” He walks right next to me, hands in the suit pockets.

…I didn’t even know it had pockets –

“Well. The fact that I’ve had an overall bad day and bad night shows, hm? Good to know that I’m an open book now,” I snap.

Mathias blinks, surprised at the tone of my voice.

“Arzen, what’s wrong-”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

What a freaking lie

“Something’s wrong. You don’t usually act like this.”

“Act like what, exactly – a snarky, sarcastic to the tenth degree female?”

“I was going to say that you’re sort of summoning a Himmel in you, but that works too.”

And now, I was Amaya Himmel.

Fantastic –

“I can’t even be myself now,” I mutter, walking faster.

He, of course, catches up to me.

“Look, if you’re going to be like this, you might attract a Setomion.”

Just what I need, really.

“Good. So maybe it can suck my emotions dry,” I reply flatly.

And he stops me, catching my wrist. I don’t turn to look at him, though I can feel his eyes on me, his grip on my wrist not really loosening or weakening at all.

“You’re never usually this suicidal.”

“Ouch. Now maybe that’s going too far.”

“Do you really want to be Setomion bait and cause almost everyone in here some kind of trauma or something?”

He sounded angry.

Really angry.

Shit –

“Can you not guilt trip me right now?” I snap, breaking free from his hold on me and turning to him with a scowl on my face, “God, that’s my job. The guilt tripping. I’m trying to do it to you, but I can’t freaking do it because you’re doing it back to me.”

He blinks, some of the anger diminishing.

“…guilt tripping?”

“Yeah. Wait – shit – I wasn’t supposed to say that to you,” I backtracked, facepalming. “Forget it. You weren’t even supposed to know.”

And he looked like he discovered why the Earth went around the sun.

“…I get it now.”

“What?”

“Arzen, I had to help out Eri with the Protection Core.” He glances away, running a hand through his hair. “It’s why I wasn’t with you last night.”

And I laugh.

Like, really laugh.

Not a sarcastic laugh.

“Who said I was angry because of you? Huwag ka nga mag-assume.”

And he’s confused.

Bingo –

“Wait, I didn’t understand that last part…”

“Have a dictionary. The library’s nearby.”

And I start walking, fuming silently.

Did he really think I was angry because of him?

…I was, actually

But there was some other reason

Did I really want to keep it in

Or should I

Tell him what’s on my mind

Stopping, I put my bag on the ground and open it, fishing for something.

Glancing back at him, I throw him a small red notebook.

He catches it and looks at me as if asking what to do next.

“The latest entry. Or the first. I don’t care,” I say tiredly. “Hopefully, that’s going to tell you what’s been eating me since April. Just don’t share it with anyone or anything.”

He nods quietly and walks back to me as I slide the bag onto my shoulders once more.

“Since April?”

“Yeah. My latest entry was around yesterday, I think.”

And we walk silently, a hand lifting the journal so he can read it, and the other laying limply by his side.

He reaches one page. Two pages. Three.

And he decides to skip to the entries around last week.

We continue walking, dark grey clouds forming in the skies. A roll of thunder rumbles, and he glances up shortly before resuming reading.

A piece of my soul, really.

Something only Beatrice and Sharmaine read.

And after minutes of silence between us, he reaches for my hand and takes it in his, closing the notebook and tucking it into his pocket.

And we don’t say anything else.

His presence was all the assurance I needed.